Darkness Unbound
by BritishPixie
Summary: A sequel to Dracula, where the Count rediscovers his humanity with the help of a young woman in modern day New York. COMPLETE
1. The Awakening

One note I would like to put in here... The visual for Dracula is David Cook... I have a slight fascination, if you haven't noticed.

* * *

**The Awakening**

Eyes snapped open, air flooding the long dead lungs as Count Dracula sat up, coughing. He looked down at his hands, cursing silently as he saw that they were the hands of an old man. Dracula stood, brushing off his black pants, and looked around at his castle. He was in the great hall, which he recognized by the enormous door before him, but it was far more gone than it had been when he'd last stood in it. He moved over to the nearest gap in the stone, surveying the landscape. Stormy grey eyes narrowed as he spotted a group of strangely dressed young couples, wandering through the ruins leading up to his castle. Yes, they would do nicely.

* * *

As he straightened the leather jacket on his now youthful form, the Count looked through the papers the deceased adolescents had been carrying. It had been over a century since he had lived, if the newspapers could be trusted; but it was useless to question it, since he knew what they knew, with their blood in his veins, keeping him young for a time. He left most of the papers lie, taking with him travel papers and the money they had been carrying. The wolves would see to the corpses, or the authorities would find them; regardless, he would be long gone before they would be missed.

* * *

"Brilliant," he whispered to himself, looking out the window of the airplane as it flew over the Atlantic Ocean. Humanity's invention had saved him the question of how to get out of Transylvania, and had given him the opportunity of seeing with his somewhat human eyes what he'd only seen as a bat or occasionally an owl; the spectacular views of clouds and moonlight glancing off the surfaces. He may be a monster, even by his own somewhat biased reckoning, but such beauty still had the power to move him. He shifted slightly as the airplane began to descend, going through the clouds to reveal the bustle of a city, one unlike any the Count had previously beheld. New York City, it had been called. A small smile spread across Dracula's face, thoughts of the countless meals he would enjoy enveloping him; with such masses, how many would disappear before it was noticed?

* * *

The genius of humanity astounded him. Odd, since he'd never burdened them with an overabundance of intelligence. But in the century he'd been reforming, there had been such a leap of technology as he'd never seen in the centuries previous. He knew the basics of how most things worked from the information gleaned from his first meals, but the place they called Times Square left him stunned. He stood in the sea of people, their heartbeats ringing in his ears as he looked at the giant video screens that advertised almost everything imaginable. As he turned to continue down the sidewalk, a display in a bookstore next to him caught his attention. A book bearing his name was front and center, surrounded by other fictional accounts of his kind. Curiosity consumed him, drove him into the store and purchased several of the books, including his own. A pass by a video store yielded a similar outcome, and so the Count returned to his hotel room with his arms full.

* * *

Dracula sat back in astonishment as he turned off the DVD player. It hadn't taken him long to flip through the things he'd found; he didn't need to watch entire movies or read whole books to see that he'd been turned into what the humans called "pop culture". Obviously, someone had found the diaries of his murderers and had published them. Or else a survivor of the group. He'd never really given thought as to the descendants of his enemies, but he certainly did now. He also began to think of making a new identity for himself. He'd been able to get through the airport and customs by mesmerizing the attendants, but it wouldn't work forever. He would have to forge identification papers, especially if he intended to sell a few antiques he'd taken from his castle. The money from the tourists wouldn't last forever, and he needed a new name.

* * *

He stood on the top of a building, watching the alleyways. He'd quickly found that the media and police had grown in authority in the last century, and he would have to be careful about who he killed. The Count had actually considered just finding new victims every night and leaving people alive, so no one would die at all. Perfectly inconspicuous, and totally unlike him. Humans were still cattle to him, but it would satisfy his need as a hunter and warrior to play the part of vigilante.

Movement caught his eye; a blonde woman walking down the street, only to be pulled into the alley he sat above. A smile curled his lips as he heard a muffled scream; his cue to drop down and upset things. Dracula's future meal had the woman at gunpoint, demanding her purse, his spare hand over her mouth to muffle her cries for help. Relishing the inevitable fight ahead, the vampire tapped the thief on the shoulder, and then backhanded him further into the alley once he'd gotten his attention. An all too brief tussle later, and Dracula's fangs were in the man's throat, the frantic pounding of the thief's heart ringing in his ears. That wasn't the only thing his ears heard, however. Snaps, along with flashes of light, caught his attention. He looked up; dropping the corpse to the ground, and saw the woman had a camera to her eye.

He sighed; this would be more complicated since those he rescued usually ran away as soon as they had the chance. The Count moved towards her, backing her up against the wall, blocking her from the view of the street.

"Your camera, please," he demanded, holding out his hand. She looked up at him, deep brown eyes staring through gold rimmed glasses. She was a little more than half a foot shorter than him; not that it was unusual for him to be the taller. He took the camera from her, and simply went through and deleted all the pictures of him on it and gave it back to her. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took it, making him laugh a little. "You thought I would smash it?"

"I thought you were going to kill me," she half whispered, smiling shakily. He blinked, stepping back a little. She seemed different from the rest of the oblivious masses, and it made him look at her a little closer.

Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, which still hung down well past her shoulders, revealing the pale skin of her throat. She was already almost as pale as he himself, but it still flushed with the life he lacked. Her face was round, echoing the gentle curves of the rest of her body, and with the smile, her face was far more pleasant than any he'd seen in Europe.

"The thought crossed my mind, but that would have made my saving you useless, do you not agree?" he asked, taking her hand in his and kissing the back of it. A blush reddened her face, reaching clear up to her ears. "Drake de Ville, at your service." His name had been one of his favorite parts of his new identity. The last he had used previously, and he'd liked, while the first was one from one of the movies he'd been featured in.

"Tina Davidson. Thank you for saving my life. And for not smashing my camera." She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek gently, then looked down. Dracula was charmed by her show of gratitude, and decided to do something completely uncharacteristic; he leaned down, lifting her chin gently with one hand, and kissed her on the lips. He listened to her heart flutter as she leaned back against the brick wall for support. The Count pulled back, stroking his fingers across her face. He smiled at her, the same smile he'd given many before. Perhaps he would begin in this new country by making a new bride for himself. It had always been a good start before, after all.

"You know, I don't usually kiss every guy I meet… would you like to go to dinner or something? Oh you don't eat… well…" Tina blushed again, solidifying the vampire's plans.

"Dinner would be fine. I have found that the ability to cook comes in handy, even if the food isn't for me." Dracula pulled out a pad of paper and wrote down the address of the house he'd purchased with some of the money from his antiques. Apparently, his old things had been worth a small fortune. "Any chance to enjoy your company would be a most pleasant evening." He handed her the piece of paper and bowed before setting off down the street, smiling to himself. Perhaps this bride wouldn't stab him in the back at every chance, and force him to get others just to keep her in check. He would have to check up on her, though, to make sure she didn't know anyone who would have the resources to come after him; he'd only needed to make that mistake once.


	2. The Relationship

So sorry that this took so long getting up. Recient foot injury didn't let me get to the basement and my computer. Not to mention the last section of this part took me a while... You'll see why.

* * *

**The Relationship**

Dracula watched her from across the table, a wine glass in his hand. Of course, it wasn't filled with wine, but it gave a bit of normalcy to the whole thing. He found that he quite enjoyed her conversation, which was a pleasant change from his usual picks; more about looks, not brains. But there was more to Tina than met the eye, and the eye certainly did not go wanting that night. The Count, who had seen hundreds of beautiful women over the centuries, could hardly take his eyes off her. She had worn her hair down, and a strapless red dress hugged her figure. Among the many changes humanity had made in lifestyles, he was very thankful that long skirts and high collars had gone out of fashion.

"The chicken was delicious," Tina said with a smile as she pushed her plate away, prompting him to stand and take it from in front of her.

"I'm glad it was to your liking. You look lovely," he whispered, his lips hovering a little away from her ear. Her heart beat sped up a little, making him pull away to put her dish in the kitchen. He would draw it out, make her want him. If he did it right, she'd be his by the end of the night. When Dracula turned back toward her, she'd stood and pulled a camera from her bag.

"I'd like to take your picture," she said sheepishly, stepping closer. "Since you don't show up in mirrors, I thought you might like to see what you look like now." He stepped toward her, running his fingertip down the arc of her neck lightly, smiling as he felt goose bumps forming on her skin.

"Where would you like me?" he asked, clasping his hands behind his back. Tina blinked for a moment, and then motioned to the living room. The Count stood and faced her, holding still for the camera. After taking several shots, she lowered the camera.

"How about smiling? You have a nice smile," she offered before putting it up to her eye level once more. He did as she asked, though he had a bit of a hard time thinking of what to smile about; until he looked at her. Then, the smile came quite naturally. Count Dracula, one responsible for countless deaths and much torture over the course of five centuries, was love struck. It had happened before, of course, but it never lasted. The affair would be heated, passionate, and then fizzle after about two hundred years. Eternal love hadn't ever actually lived up to eternity, in his experience, but it was good for a while.

He was pulled from his thoughts as Tina moved to connect wires to the television he had purchased, using it to view the photographs. Once she found a good picture of him, he stood before the screen and looked at himself for the first time in half a millennia. He was far younger than he had previously been, which suited him. His face was fuller than he'd read in the diaries that made up his novel, as it had been in his living youth, with a light beard and mustache, as though he hadn't shaved in a day or so. The dark hair was short and a little messy, with lighter shades in it than he had remembered, though he recalled that it had been that way when he had been a child. His eyes were a stormy grey, and looked thoughtful, with rather arched eyebrows completing his face. His form was less thin than before as well, allowing for youthful muscles. She flipped through the pictures, coming up to the ones where he was smiling. He had to agree, it wasn't bad; it was a little mischievous, and fit well with his sensuous mouth.

"Hang on…" Tina whispered, moving up to look closer at the screen. "You had fangs the other night, and now you don't… What happened?"

"I can alter my appearance to be a little less… animalistic. I thought it might make you more comfortable. Unless you prefer a little danger?" he asked, stepping closer and winding his fingers through her hair, tilting her head up to look at him. His eyes flashed with red for a moment, his eye teeth lengthening. Dracula watched her face, listened to her heart, to see if she would be afraid or if she would still want him. When he didn't feel any signs of fear coming from her, he let his fangs fade and his eyes to turn back to grey. He smirked a little and bent to kiss her, a little taken aback by the enthusiastic response. Tina was all too willing as he backed her onto the couch, half kneeling on it next to her as his lips moved down to her throat. One of his hands rested on her knee and began to make its way up higher, tracing lazy circles on her inner thigh; he could tell from the almost frantic beating of her heart and her rising body heat that she was putty in his hands, and all he had to do now was bite her, securing his hold on her. As his fangs lengthened, something broke through his listening to her heart; the sound of her whispering his assumed name of 'Drake', telling him not to stop, that she wanted him. Of course, he had known as much, but to hear her say it made him stop and look at her.

Her head was tilted back against the couch, eyes shut. A bruise was forming on her neck from where he had been kissing and biting; searching for a good vein. Her face was peaceful, purely happy, something he had never seen before in a lover. Her breathing was heavy, and judging from it all, she was nearing the point where she would likely jump on him if he stopped what he was doing. Tina raised a hand to her throat, feeling the bruise, a lazy smile spreading over her face.

"Now that's trust," she breathed, chuckling at his puzzled look. "Letting a vampire give me a hickie." Drake chuckled and shifted, scooping her up in his arms.

"I heard a joke like that once. Only the punch line involved two cannibals…" he said with a smile, laughing as she slapped his shoulder.

"That's dirty," she said with a pointed grin, winding her arms around his neck.

"I know." He moved through the hallway to his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

* * *

Dracula propped himself up on an elbow, massaging Tina's back and shoulders with his other hand. It had been almost two months from that first night, and he still hadn't gone forward with his plan. He knew now that he wouldn't be able to at all. Even though his plans had been challenged, for the first time in his life, either living or dead, he wasn't angry. If anything, he was glad to finally find something he cared about. He had been lonely for a long time; it had made him make mistakes in the past, of course, but he could hardly call a real relationship a mistake.

"You're the nicest vampire I've ever met," Tina murmured sleepily, shifting a little to look at him. His smile failed a little, making him slow his movements.

"I'm afraid you've had a very poor sampling," he whispered, turning to lie on his back in the bed they shared.

"Why do you say things like that? You've been nothing but sweet to me, but you keep acting like you're this terrible person. You're a good man, Drake," she insisted, sitting up to look at him.

"I'm really not," he said, sitting up and beginning to get dressed, to go find something for his dinner.

"Who are you? And don't give me your name, that's nothing! We've been sleeping together for two months, and all I know is that you died five hundred years ago!" Tina threw on her clothing as well, moving to block his exit.

"I can't tell you… I don't want to lose you," he answered quietly, moving back to the bed and sitting on the edge, his face in his hands.

"If you don't start trusting me, you definitely will." She turned to go; he didn't need to hear her heart pounding to know he was breaking it. Before she could move much, he reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back closer to him. He stood, looking down at her for a moment before sitting her back down on the bed.

"You want to know me? Fine." He let her go and moved to his bookcase, pulling down a book. He tossed it on the sheets next to her and turned to the window. "That book will tell you everything you want to know." He shrunk down into his bat form, leaving her in peace with the novel of his downfall; let her decide what she would do before he came back.

* * *

When he returned, Drake half thought that she would be gone, and that he would never see the woman who had thawed his heart again. But to his surprise, she was still sitting on the bed, holding the book.

"You're Dracula," she stated bluntly, not even turning to look at him. He walked silently to stand next to her, waiting for her true reaction. "In this, you were conniving, manipulative, seductive, cruel, violent… But you've never been anything like that to me… Well, seductive… but that's beside the point."

"That's true. You brought out something in me I thought was long dead. I assumed my humanity had perished long ago, and yet here I am sharing the room with the most beautiful woman I have ever known." He sat next to her, resting his hand tentatively on her leg. When she didn't flinch away, he continued. "Before you, I felt nothing, no love, sorrow, joy, fear … I was a shell of a man. Now… now I feel too much. When I'm with you, you fog things up, spin me about so I hardly know which way's up." He looked down at her, found her looking back at him with tears in her eyes. "I love you… I never thought I would say that again after so long, but I do. And I know now that I can't go back to the way it was before, I can't be hollow again." He bent to kiss her, surprised as usual at her enthusiasm.

"I love you, too… I'll never leave you." Drake pulled away, cupping her face in his hands. He kissed her again and began the task of removing her clothing once more, smiling as he felt her doing the same for him.

* * *

He looked up at her through the veil of her hair, watching her chest rise and fall as she caught her breath. She collapsed on his chest, laughing softly. The Count looked down at her, knowing that holding her in his arms like this would be the closest he would ever get to heaven. He simply laid back, as he did almost every night, and listened to her heart calm itself down from the frenzied pace it had been in for the last several minutes.

"We should talk," she whispered, shifting a little to look up at him. She slid off him to lie next to him, propping herself up on her elbow. "Where do we go from here?" He raised an eyebrow, shifting to look at her better.

"What do you mean? Aren't you happy with me?" he asked, a little concerned.

"Of course I'm happy, but… What about kids, marriage? The kinds of things my mother will bring up when you meet her." Drake grimaced; meeting her parents was something he'd hoped to avoid as long as possible.

"Well… Children, I can't help you with. I can't have children, since I'm actually… well… dead. But we can always adopt. I hear that's the latest rage in Hollywood," he half-teased, smiling down at her. "As to marriage, I don't see why not. Just not a church wedding, and don't have the minister bless anything."

"You mean you want to marry me? Make me your bride…" Tina raised one eyebrow challengingly, being quite obvious in her words.

"If you're talking about making you like me, that's the furthest thing from my mind. I love you too much to let you die forever. I'll keep you as long as I can… I'm perfectly content in growing old with you over one lifetime." He smiled, kissing her forehead.

"Just don't get any more wives. I don't swing that way," she teased, raising up a little to look at him with a smile.

"I wouldn't dream of it. Though the sex was amazing…" he said, making sure his tone was wistful. He laughed as she hit him with her pillow, prompting him to pin her down, easing himself over her again.

* * *

As the sun rose and flooded the room with light, Dracula turned on his side, propping his head up to watch her sleep. He did that quite often; he enjoyed seeing her so peaceful. It was a change from her usual playful grins or the brooding looks when she would be lost in thought.

With a yawn, Tina's eyes opened, a smile appearing as she saw him, but it was immediately replaced with a frown. "There's gray in your hair…" she mumbled sleepily, shifting a bit to look closer. Drake's face went paler as he realized he hadn't eaten in quite a while; too long. He was beginning to age.

"I need blood… I'll be an old man by tomorrow…" He looked out the window, realizing that he'd never be able to find anything, since he was almost powerless in the daytime. "It's impossible… I just won't go out until tonight."

"I'm not making out with someone who looks like my grandfather… Take me." Tina looked quite insistent, silencing his protests. "You can stop before you kill me, you don't need that much. I trust you."

The Count sighed. He hadn't wanted this, not since that first night, before he'd truly fallen for her. But he could see there would be no arguing with her. "Lie back. I'm going to make sure you feel no pain, but it will make you weak." He watched her lay back down, pulling her hair to one side of her throat.

He moved over her again, his eyes going red as his fangs lengthened. His eyes met hers, a connection forming between their minds, allowing him to take control of her. Her eyelids fluttered a little, a soft moan escaping her lips as he deadened her senses, only allowing a euphoric feeling to go through her. Her back arched slightly, allowing him to move one hand under her back, lifting her up a little more to make her tilt her head back. Dracula moved in closer, listening to her blood rushing just under the skin. He paused for a moment, whispering to her. "I'm so sorry for this…" Then, he bit.

Drake's eyes closed as her blood filled his mouth, so much richer than his usual diet. He felt her arms around him, holding on to him desperately, her heart pounding in his ears as he'd only ever heard it while they were in the throes of passion. He felt powerful again, a strength that could only be found in taking an innocent; it was so much more potent than the criminals he'd been forced to feed off of. Drake growled softly and held her closer, wincing as she gasped when he bit down harder. He knew she felt pleasure at that, not pain, but it halted his descent into his old darkness; it kept him from losing himself in the sensations. Underneath the cloud of ecstasy he'd placed her in, buried deep, was a vague terror that had been present in all of his victims. He'd enjoyed it before, but now it broke his heart.

He almost pulled back, but she held fast, holding him to her. It was only when she weakened that he was able to pull back without hurting her. He hadn't taken much more than if she'd donated blood at a blood bank; still too much in his eyes. Drake kissed her throat on the wounds, closing them and leaving only small scars. He eased her back, releasing her from his hold. Tina blinked, looking up at him. "The gray is gone…" She closed her eyes, one hand resting on her forehead, a little dizzy from her blood loss. "I want you to promise me that you will go out enough so this doesn't happen again." He nodded, lying back down next to her, gathering her in his arms.

"Go to sleep. Rest for a little while longer… You don't have to be anywhere today," he whispered, kissing her shoulder. She smiled and nodded, soon drifting back to sleep. He watched her, still torn from what he'd done, and soon fell into an uneasy sleep as well, the memory of her blood rushing through her veins and over his lips playing itself over and over in his mind. He could still hear her heart at that frenzied pace, and it made him remember his former strength, from before his conscience had awoken. A nagging thought, silent for almost a year now, returned; humanity was still to blame for his being the last of his kind, and he would be quite justified in wanting revenge.


	3. The Disaster

**Finally! The last section of this was the hold up... still not completely happy with it, but I might come back and redo it... I dunno. I'm just elated that I finished something for once!**

* * *

**The Disaster**

True to his promise, Drake went out almost every night to feed. Of course, he couldn't guarantee that he would find an act of violence to break up, so he had to improvise. At least, that's what he told himself every time he pulled an innocent woman into an alley and took her, sometimes not even bothering to deaden her senses, only keeping her from screaming in fear and pain. It was almost like a drug, the taste of innocent blood, and the Count never even considered the consequences of his newfound addiction.

He was always careful to keep well away from the house he shared with Tina, which was already well into the country so he could transform into his bat form without being seen. However, he failed to keep away from the alley that they met in, which was right on her way home from the magazine that bought her photographs. Dracula waited in the shadows of the alley, watching the passing pedestrians, biding his time until he found one he wanted. He'd come to consider it almost his alley, he used it so often; but then, so many suitable victims used it. A woman with dark hair, dark as his own, caught his attention; she would be the one tonight.

"Come to me," he whispered, his eyes shooting through with red, taking control of the woman easily. She turned sharply and made her way into the alley, a look of terror in her dark eyes. Drake chuckled darkly and, winding his hand through her hair, wrenched her head back sharply and bit, enjoying the power in her blood and the taste of it washing over his lips.

"Drake, stop! You'll kill her!" a voice almost yelled from beside him, tugging on his shoulder. Tina. He knew her voice, could never forget it, but he'd already gone too deep into the darkness to do anything other than pull his arm free and move a few steps away. He listened to the dark haired woman's frenzied heart slow to a stop, and then simply let her body drop to the ground. He turned to Tina, eyes narrowing as he heard her gasp. The Count wiped off his mouth, thinking that the blood dripping from it was what had caused her shock, but he paused when he felt that his cheeks had become smooth. His hair was a little longer in the front as well, and he had more energy than before; he'd become younger.

"Well… That was unexpected," he whispered to himself, walking past her towards the street.

"Drake…" Tina whispered, a sob welling in her throat, making him pause and look back. She'd begun to cry silently, breaking through the darkness that had gotten hold of his heart once more. "I've never been afraid of you, Drake… But you're terrifying me now. I'm losing you… Please, don't leave me." His eyes moved from her to the corpse he'd left. Before, it'd almost seemed like a work of art to him, her beauty and terror frozen for all time. But now it sickened him, sending him to his knees.

"What have I done? I… I can't stop it… Ever since I drank from you, I can't seem to get enough of blood pure as yours… I'm like some sort of junkie and that's my own personal brand of heroin." He started to sob, tears of his own falling to the ground as the internal struggle he'd won before started all over again. He jerked away slightly as he felt her hand on his shoulder, then calmed to her touch.

"I'll help you… Don't worry; we'll get through this together."

* * *

Drake huddled in a corner, trembling slightly with restraint. It had been a week since he'd started his self imposed detox, with Tina giving him blood he'd stolen from a blood bank to keep him from ageing. As with a mortal going through withdrawal, the process was far from pleasant, but Tina stayed with him as much as possible.

His head lifted as the door opened to let Tina through with groceries for herself. His senses sharpened suddenly; he could hear the beating of her heart as perfectly as if he had a stethoscope against her chest, could hear her breathing, the rustling of her clothes; every bit of her. He fought the predator in him, to keep himself under control, but it already had taken hold of him.

He stood with an ethereal grace and stalked towards her. In his state, Dracula could hardly tell her from any other human who would cross his path: fresh meat. Tina looked up to see him coming towards her, and quickly backed herself against the door to keep him from leaving, pulling out a cross. Drake gasped softly, falling to his knees weakly. The cross had sapped his strength, but not his will. "Put it down, my love," he whispered, his eyes turning crimson as he stood once more. Her mind was easier to gain access to than before, but since she'd been bitten, she was his completely if he wished it. He held his hand out for her, watching her throw the cross in a corner and move to him, her hand sliding into his. He turned her around in his arms, one hand sliding over her stomach slowly, possessively, while the other moved across her body to pull her chin aside, baring her throat. He leaned in slowly, taking in her scent, savoring his conquest, but made the mistake of looking up for a moment.

They'd ended up in front of a mirror, and while he showed no reflection, he could see her face all to well. The panicked, pleading look in her eyes brought him back to his senses and made him let her go. Tina stumbled a little as he let go of her mind, turning around to look at him. "It'll be over soon. You'll get better, I know it," she whispered, kissing him gently and moving to put away the groceries. He simply watched her, moving back into his corner to wait it out.

* * *

Two years. Drake smiled to himself as he watched the sun rise from the balcony outside their bedroom. It had been two years since he'd first met Tina, first began to change. Of course, the last six months had been less than pleasant, but he had finally broken himself of the addiction. He had wondered at first why it was so much harder this time than when he'd first gotten to New York, to get used to not taking the blood of the innocent. Before it had been a necessity, to hide himself from the authorities. But this time, he was doing it for Tina, and the beast within him didn't want to give up control for what it considered just another meal.

"Happy Anniversary," Tina whispered from behind him, kissing his shoulder gently. Drake's smile widened as he turned to kiss her full on, surprising her for once with passion. Careful not to accidentally hurt her, he backed her up against the frame of the door that led back into their bedroom, one hand grasping her waist, while the other rested lightly against her throat.

"You are not leaving that bed until you can hardly walk…" he whispered as he kissed over her throat and collar bone, listening her giggling turn to a gasp as his lips moved lower, over the sensitive skin of her breast, his lips soon joined by one of his hands.

As he picked her up and carried her back to the bed, he watched her; took in the look of anticipation on her face, the slight tremors that crossed her face every time he gave her thighs a gentle squeeze. Gentleness wasn't something he'd been used to before, but then, he hadn't made a practice of sleeping with humans, either. Compared to him, she was so fragile, he was afraid of crushing her if he touched her when he started to lose control. It had only bothered her once, but when he explained his fear, she was flattered she had made him lose his grip on his tremendous strength. Likewise, he was always careful not to let his mouth close to her, especially after the past few months. He took the opportunity instead to watch her melt under his touch. Drake soon realized that watching Tina was as intoxicating for him as her blood had been, that he could never get enough of seeing her so blissfully happy.

The feeling was as potent as it had ever been, making him think to the future for the first time in his life. He'd always looked at what he had wanted the outcome to be, but never at how he would get there; not the specifics, at any rate. A serious flaw of his, one that he'd never faced before, but he hoped would soon be conquered by something actually going as planned. Drake smiled down at Tina as he laid her down, kissing across her stomach slowly. He would be with her for the rest of her life, of that he was certain, and he would love her for the rest of his.

* * *

Panic. Not something he was accustomed to feeling, but Drake couldn't help it as he paced around the waiting room at the hospital. It had been a perfect day; he'd taken Tina into Central Park, by the fountain, had a picnic set up for them. He'd intended to propose to her there, but it had turned into a disaster.

He moved to the door as the doctor who had taken Tina's case came out, crossing his arms over his chest to hide the fact that his hands were trembling.

"How is she?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice level.

"Not well. She had a severe allergic reaction to a bee sting. You didn't know she was allergic?" the doctor explained, looking up from his clipboard for a moment as Drake shook his head.

"No… It never came up… I never thought to ask about it." The Count turned away, banishing any thoughts that it was somehow his fault from his head. He wouldn't have had any way to prevent it, even if he had known; neither of them had noticed the insect until it was too late. "Can I see her?"

"I wouldn't recommend it. She's still very unstable; I wouldn't want her condition to worsen from overexertion. I'll let you know when you can go in," the doctor said, patting Drake on the shoulder and walking back towards the ICU, where Tina was.

Of course, he wouldn't sit quietly and wait as she was dieing… He'd sworn that he would let her life run its course, but he also wasn't ready to lose her. He wouldn't lose her, not if he could help it. Drake slipped into a janitor's closet, turning into a fine white mist and began to move through the air duct into Tina's room, making sure that the door was shut and blinds pulled before solidifying.

The sight of her attached to all the machines, a tube in her throat to help her breathe, all of it made him feel helpless; a first in his long life. He gently sat next to her, running his fingers through her hair.

"Don't leave me… Not yet… I'm not ready to lose you…" he whispered, bending to kiss her forehead. He smiled a little as he saw she'd opened her eyes, though they were still a little bit bleary from the medication she'd been given. He grasped her hand, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks, his shoulders shaking a little. "Please… Let me save you… I can't go back to being alone…"

He stood quickly as her eyes rolled back a little and her heart rate began picking up. Drake quickly cut his wrist and held it to her lips, begging her to drink. She'd gotten maybe a mouthful before the alarms began going off on her equipment; the sound of running and shouting from the medical staff forced him to shrink into his rat form and hide under her bed. As the sounds of the team working to keep her alive filled the air, he kept hoping that she'd swallowed some of his blood. If she'd gotten some, she would become like him… but if not, he would lose her. If she did die, he had no doubt that he would lose the shreds of humanity he'd regained.

For the first time in centuries, the Count prayed; prayed to any deity that would listen to not take her from him, to let him keep her.


	4. The End

**The final chapter! I hope you enjoyed this! I've actually got two people to thank, beyond those who've reviewed here... The real life Tina, a good friend of mine, I thank you for letting me use your adorable face and name for this character... Wouldn't have been able to do this without you, Teeny... Secondly, David Cook, the visual inspiration for Dracula. He's inspired my creativity in many ways, and I don't think I would have actually finished this if I'd not been listening to his music almost the entire time.**

**Also... I might do a rewrite on this... It moved a bit more quickly than I would have liked, but I needed to get it out of my head before I forgot it all. So, don't be a stranger to the story, or any of my stuff for that matter... I do occasionally go in and add stuff when I think it needs it.**

* * *

**The End**

Drake watched as the coffin was lowered into the ground, holding an umbrella to shield himself from the light sprinkling rain. He turned away, scanning the group that had gathered for Tina's parents.

"Mr. and Mrs. Davidson?" he inquired as he came up to them. Tina had gotten her dark eyes from her mother, and her blond hair from her father, he noticed, but had never seen such expressions of grief on his love before; likely a good thing, because he would have torn the Earth apart to make her happy again. "My name is Drake DeVille… I was-"

"We know, Tina had told us about you," her father cut in, extending his hand in greeting. Drake took it for a moment before reaching into the inside pocket of the black coat he wore. He pulled out a black velvet box, opening it a moment to show the diamond engagement ring inside before handing it to her mother.

"I want you to have this… I never got to give it to her… It happened when I was reaching in my pocket for it…" he half whispered, pressing the box into Mrs. Davidson's hands even as she protested. He smiled for a moment before moving further out into the cemetery, ducking into a mausoleum to get out of the rain once he was out of visual range of the funeral party.

Once the sun had set and the weather had cleared, Drake went back to the gravesite, sitting down next to the pile of dirt that covered Tina's coffin. He smoothed his hand over it, lightly grazing the dirt before shifting up and plunging his fist through the earth. He stayed like that for a few minutes, arm buried up to the shoulder before beginning to pull. The dirt gave way, caving in and falling away from his arm, even as he pulled.

Soon, a hand emerged, clenched in Drake's, knuckles covered in cuts from the coffin lid. He stood and continued to pull, watching Tina's blond hair emerging from the dirt. For a moment, he thought that he hadn't signaled to her to get out fast enough, that she'd wasted all her energy getting out, but she soon coughed, spitting out dirt as she began to dislodge her feet from the grave. Still coughing, she started brushing off the black dress she wore, trying to get as much dirt out of it as possible.

"You're filthy," Drake joked with a smile, smile widening as she punched his arm.

"How did I survive it? The way people are embalmed now…" she rasped, spitting out a little more dirt.

"It's amazing what a small fortune will get you if you ask the right questions. I made sure the undertaker wouldn't do anything to you. Come on, let's find you something to eat." Tina smiled and accepted his arm when he offered it, still coughing up dirt. They walked out into the mist covered cemetery, arm in arm, gradually disappearing into the night.


End file.
